Tuesday, July 3, 2012


When I was a kid, we had guns around and my family loved explosives. Some people are just like that.

One of my brothers became a park ranger with many police duties. We all went to the gun range.

And fireworks! Well—that was the best day of the year. My dad had an old cannon his dad brought back from the Spanish-American War—he anchored it with sandbags and fired it on the Fourth. Of course, the police showed up instantly—and then started helping him!

The first sound you used to hear on the morning of the Fourth was pop…poppopopop—kids setting off firecrackers. Now—we are all so civilized, you don’t hear that. Yes, even in Arizona.

But if you are still an outlaw or have a streak of bad, you must be a little cautious. Never let young children hold even the littlest fireworks.

Don’t get them if they are illegal where you live.

If the device is in brown paper—it may be made for professionals—pass it by.

Even a sparkler is 2,000 degrees. Ouch!

Don’t bend over the firework while lighting it. Scatter fast!

If it fizzles, don’t touch it.

Keep a bucket of water or hose handy.

Humans will be humans—the more they say not to, the more you want to.

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